


Filthy Sweet

by Rae



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinks, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae/pseuds/Rae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim makes one simple observation that plagues him all day long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filthy Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [notboldly50295](http://notboldly.livejournal.com/)

Jim stumbled into the shower on shaky legs. Morning sex was always risky since his body took so long to recover from orgasm, but he found it was also always, always worth it. With a quiet moan, Jim braced himself against the wall and let the water flow hotly over him, chasing away some of the aches and easing his trembling.

They had taken too long, become too involved in each other and now Jim had less than twenty minutes to report for duty. It was why he got to shower first. He felt bad, sorta, kinda, about leaving Spock laying in their mess but it was mostly overruled by the memory of Spock laid out, rumpled, flushed, sated. Jim moaned for an entirely different reason and shut off the water.

He knew, hell, everyone knew that Spock was particular about his cleanliness. They could beam down to a mud covered hellhole (had actually done so on numerous occasions) and Spock would be the only one to beam back without a speck on him. It was incredible how he was able to stay so damn clean all the time. So, yeah, the idea of him laying atop soiled sheets with Jim’s sweat and ejaculate covering his skin was more than a little hot.

Fumbling with his clothes, Jim turned toward the shower, waiting to hear Spock enter and turn on the water. He only ever used the water feature after sex, usually opting for sonics instead, but Jim only heard silence. A beep emitted from his console, effectively distracting him from thoughts of a naked, wet Spock. It would appear that the science ducklings were ready to begin preliminary trials on the Osuka device and required an inspection and sign off. Jim checked the chronometer and gauged that he had just enough time to stop by the labs before grabbing a coffee and heading to the bridge. He wouldn’t make them wait two hours until Spock was on duty. The Admiralty was eager to learn all they could about this new technology the _Enterprise_ had recently discovered and he wouldn’t delay the process any longer than necessary.

Jim spared another glance at the silent bathroom before exiting his quarters.

***

Jim entered the lab and stopped dead in his tracks. He did a double take, checked the time on his padd (no, no temporal anomalies) and looked again at Spock standing across the room, calmly inspecting the modified power source on the device. Jim grabbed a young lieutenant in science blues passing him and pulled her to a stop.

“Hannah, how long has Spock been down here?”

The young scientist looked over to where Spock was now crouching down to adjust a wire and returned her attention to Jim.

“About ten minutes, Captain.”

Jim nodded and released her arm, allowing her to continue on her way. Jim’s stomach tightened in arousal, which was ridiculous cause he just had Spock’s dick up his ass not thirty minutes ago. He shouldn’t be this turned on. Willing his growing erection away, Jim turned on his heel and headed for the mess hall. He needed coffee. He needed to wake up and be captain instead of a horny adolescent. Except…

Why the hell was Spock in the labs when he was off duty? It wasn’t unprecedented, no. Spock spent a lot of his off duty time loitering around the labs, checking on his ducklings' progress and inspecting current experiments in their various stages. But…this wasn’t an emergency, Jim was capable of inspection and sign off, and Spock was covered in spunk.

Jim nodded absently to passing crew as he grabbed his coffee and entered the lift. He was confused. It didn’t make sense. Jim entered the bridge and exchanged greetings with his crew before settling into the command chair and immediately grabbing his personal padd from its side holder and accessing crew locations on the mainframe. Spock was still in the lab. Still. In. The. Lab. Which Jim’s mind translated into: Still. Fucking. Filthy. He gulped the scalding coffee in hopes of not coming in his pants at the thought. He kept his gaze on his padd as his yeoman brought him several reports and updates for him to focus on. The two hours before Spock appeared on the bridge passed slowly. Jim watched his padd and took note of Spock leaving the labs twenty minutes before bridge duty except he went to Engineering, then the mess hall before reporting for his shift. Punctual as ever. Also?

STILL. FUCKING. FILTHY.

Jim shifted in his chair, hissing as his pants tightened across his erection. He didn’t know how he was going to get through this shift. It was another two hours before he made his way casually over to the science console. He made small talk, asked about the device and discussed speculation about its incorporation into current weapons technology. He did all this while discretely sniffing the air surrounding his first officer.

He couldn’t smell anything. He couldn’t smell himself spread over the smooth skin of his first officer. He inhaled deeply, trying to catch a hint of something. Anything.

“Captain, are you well?”

“What?”

“You are breathing in an odd manner. Are your lungs functioning properly?” Spock gazed up at him with obvious concern in his brown eyes.

“No. No, I’m fine Spock. Just, um. Yeah.” Jim retreated back to his seat and slouched down to hide his embarrassment at getting caught sniffing Spock.

It seemed like forever before his shift ended and he was able to escape from the bridge. He managed to choke out his usual dinner and chess invite to Spock, which was accepted, before fleeing to his quarters.

He was an ass. He had spent most of his shift staring at Spock, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. Something to show that Spock was aware, was fucking knowledgeable about the fact that he was still covered in his captain’s dry cum. But Spock was Spock. Nothing was unusual, other than the increasing number of eyebrow raises aimed in his direction every time Spock caught Jim staring at him.

The pointed glare Jim received before the end of his shift finally caused him to keep his eyes adverted from Spock’s form. The crew was smart–Jim had noticed the questioning looks they shot each other during the shift–and he cursed his inability to control himself. They were going to get caught. They would be outed by his too-smart crew because he spent an entire shift staring at his first officer while sporting serious wood.

And it was his idea, the secrecy. He hadn’t wanted to share their relationship with everyone. It was theirs and theirs alone. And here he was, jeopardizing it because Spock skipped his shower. Stupid. Only, fuck, it was hot as hell. And it was important. At least, Jim thought it was. Spock went through an entire day wearing Jim on his skin. That had to mean something.

He needed to confirm his crazy theory. He needed to see something from Spock to acknowledge what he knew was a fact. Cause there was no way Spock managed a shower at any point in the day without Jim noticing. Was there?

In frustration, Jim turned to his computer and accessed visuals of the bridge. He felt like a creep to be spying on his crew, on Spock, but he had to know.

Everything looked normal. Spock sat in the command chair, legs crossed, studying a padd. He looked up as Chekov said something to him, then in a fluid motion, stood and crossed to the helm. It was all so normal. Jim felt disappointment rush through him and called himself a fool. He reached out to terminate the connection, but then he saw it.

It happened in an instant. It was a fleeting moment but it confirmed all his suspicions. He watched as Spock straightened from his conversation with Chekov, turning toward the command seat, then put his hand across his abdomen and rubbed, inhaling deeply.

Jim almost crowed in satisfaction except it escaped as a moan. Fuck. It was intentional. Spock hadn’t been too busy or preoccupied. Spock had consciously skipped his shower to carry Jim with him. On his skin. Jim ran for the shower and came harder than he thought possible under the hot stream.

***

Jim waited, his ass perched on the edge of his desk, his gaze never wavering from the door to his quarters. When Spock entered, exactly seven minutes after the end of his shift, he caught sight of Jim staring intently at him and stopped just inside the room. Jim didn’t say anything, just continued to stare, which caused Spock to tug at his uniform shirt. It was the only sign he gave to his nervous state and Jim read it loud and clear.

“Jim?”

“You didn’t shower.” Jim had had a plan. He had thought out exactly what he wanted to say, how he would say it. And then declarations would be made and then he’d make love to Spock. Slow, sensuous love to solidify those declarations. Those plans escaped his mind as soon as Spock was in view, standing so tall and lean in his fitted uniform.

“I-what?”

Jim smirked at the green blush rising up Spock’s face and started toward his prey slowly.

“You didn’t shower. You, Mr. Spock, are a very dirty boy.” Jim halted his approach when Spock merely swallowed and turned his gaze to the floor. In shame. Jim knew that look. He spent a lot of their relationship erasing it from Spock’s face. It was good that he had practice because he wouldn’t let it remain much longer, and he continued forward until he was standing directly in front of Spock.

“You spent all day covered in me. Could you smell it? I couldn’t. I tried but all I could smell was you. Could you smell me clinging to your skin? Tell me, Spock.” Jim slid his hand up under Spock’s layers and spread his hand across Spock’s abdomen, fingers tangling in the hair there.

“Yes.” The word was choked out as Spock tightened his muscles under Jim’s roving hand. He still wouldn’t meet Jim’s eyes.

“Is this a Vulcan thing or a you thing? Did you just want my scent on you, my claim on you to linger?”

“I have n-no way of knowing what other- _Jim_.”

Jim sunk to his knees, pushed the shirts up to expose that delicious skin before he licked a strip up the column of hair that led to Jim’s favorite destination. Spock’s hands settled in his hair, gripping tightly.

“I can taste it. Jesus, so hot Spock.” Jim flicked his tongue into Spock’s navel and was rewarded with a salty burst of flavor. He could just barely pick up his scent rubbed into the smooth skin, and he trembled with the force of possessiveness that spiked through him. “Mine. You’re mine, Spock.”

“Yes. Jim, _yes_.” Fingers tightened against his scalp and urged Jim to stand so that his mouth could be plundered. And Jim did, it was, and he shared the taste of himself with the greedy tongue that plunged into him.

All sense of shame gone, Spock picked Jim up effortlessly, hands resting under Jim’s ass to hold him as they made their way toward the bed. Jim could feel his cock leaking inside his briefs and he squirmed in Spock’s hands to rub against the tight body holding him. With dizzying speed he was on his back on the bed, pants quickly sliding off and landing on the floor in a heap.

Fevered hands reached for Spock’s clothes and helped remove every last scrap until they were both naked and pressed into each other. Jim flicked his tongue out, tracing an ear from lobe to tip and back down, causing a familiar shudder to course through Spock’s frame. Lips bit at his neck and jaw while warm hands stroked his sides, curling under his hips to press their bodies closer together.

Jim pressed up into the hot flesh above him, kicked out a leg and pushed to reverse their positions. Spock gave in gracefully and pulled Jim down into a bruising kiss. Hips rocked and legs tangled until they were a writhing coil of lust. All thought fled as Spock’s hands sought and found his entrance and ran his fingers around the outside, setting off sparks of fire in Jim’s ass. He arched into the touch and bit sharply at Spock’s neck to mark him, to possess him.

“Mine. God, Spock. Always. Mine.”

Everything ceased and Jim had to blink a few times to clear his lust glazed vision before Spock’s face became startling clear. And what he saw stuttered his heart. Spock’s face showed disbelief, hope and fear all at once.

“Always?”

With purpose and determination Jim cupped Spock’s face and kissed him softly, tenderly.

“Always.”

Vulcan arms wound around him with crushing strength. Spock buried his face in Jim’s neck and breathed through sudden tremors. “Always” he whispered into Jim’s flesh before flipping them and skimming down Jim’s body.

Jim wasn’t prepared for that hot mouth to descend on his puckered flesh, which is the only reason he squeaked in surprise. He settled in to it quickly though, pushing down toward the mouth bringing so much pleasure. Spock nipped and sucked and twisted his tongue into the dark depths of Jim, all with the devotion of a man trying to pull another being into himself. To make them one.

With a sharp tug at Spock’s hair, Jim caught his attention and thrust a bottle of lube into a waiting hand. It was amazing that Spock was able to accept the lube, slick up his fingers and thrust two in without removing his tongue or pausing in his efforts to suck the life out of Jim through his ass.

Long fingers scissored inside his core, pressed into that bud and brought Jim up to curl around the dark head in a fit of self-preservation.

“Fuck! Warn a guy before you do that.” Jim flopped back against the bed and received a mere smirk from the animal devouring him. “Incorrigible. That’s what you _ah_ are. Jesus.” Jim shuddered under the warm body that suddenly covered him, reached out and snagged a kiss before he became unable to.

“Say it again.” The words puffed across Jim’s face in a breathless whisper as Spock lined up at the starting gate.

“Say what?”

The growl his tease provoked was by far too arousing and Jim shot out a hand to grip his dick hard, nearly coming from the reverberation against his neck.

“ _Jim_. Please.” Oh God, this was going to be embarrassingly fast.

“Always. Forever. Mine. God, Spock. Love you. Love you so fucking much. _Ah_!” Jim opened up around Spock as he drove forward. Almost immediately, Spock lost all sense of rhythm and devolved into stuttering, short thrusts. It looked like Jim wasn’t the only one affected by the moment.

“Jim. Jim. Jim. T‘nash-veh. Ashaya. Ni rom. Ni buhfik. T’nash-veh Jim.” Spock’s hips slapped erratically, slowing to long, hard strokes until Jim clenched purposely and wrought a cry from Spock as he stilled and filled Jim with warmth.

It was all Jim needed to fall over the edge he had lingered on when Spock deteriorated into Vulcan. His vision whitened, body trembled, legs slid from around Spock to form a cradle, catching Spock when he collapsed forward completely spent.

Jim gasped for air, trying desperately to calm his body, his heart and lungs so that he could function again. As always, Spock recovered first, but just barely. With jerky movements, Spock shifted to the side, resting his head on Jim’s chest, legs entwining. It was all Jim could manage to tangle his fingers with Spock’s and press a quick kiss to the messy black cap tucked under his chin.

“So,” Jim inhaled deeply to capture enough air to speak clearly instead of with ragged gasps. “Marry me?”

Fingers tightened against his own and Spock pressed up against Jim’s neck, kissing softly at the sensitive skin.

“Yes.”

With a smile, Jim pulled Spock as close as he could and just held on. Sleep was quickly trying to claim him and he made the executive decision that their shower could most definitely wait.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Translation:
> 
> T‘nash-veh - Mine  
> Ashaya - Love  
> Ni rom - So good  
> Ni buhfik - So perfect  
> T’nash-veh Jim - My Jim


End file.
